I love the evening light-the golden hour. Yesterday’s light was particularly golden and warm for me.
I haven’t been taking my daily walks for the last few days so it was good to get out, to walk, think and grieve.
The Rogue River is full after three days of almost solid rain and my “thinking spot” was under water. I was able to climb up a tree stump and spend sometime reelecting. The change in the landscape from winter to spring put perspective on how long I have been here; six weeks. I came in winter bundled up and I am no leaving wearing shorts.
The light reflecting the path home is so symbolic for me right now it is almost corny, and probably even more of a push that the flare you see in the image is not really a flare but my mother’s presence, is waiting for me to pass by.